His and Hers
by Cellar Door 26
Summary: Pam's a stalker. But only for Jim. Jam, Jaren. Third Chapter up!
1. Grapefruit

**Title:** His and Hers  
**Disclaimer:** The Office does not belong to a seventeen year old Jewish girl. Life is not that cool.  
**Summary:** Pam's a stalker. But only for Jim.  
**Pairing:** Jim/Karen-ish Jim/Pam  
**Spoilers:** Somewhere in-between the beginning to middle of the 3rd season.  
**Notes:** Not totally sure where this is going, and turned out different then where it began, but I still like it. Also, I couldn't remember how to spell Pam's last name, so please correct me if I'm wrong. Thank you.

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_What is it people call this? Gimp? No, lanyard._ Both names sound strange, and have no connection to the colorful plastic that's woven together to form a rectangle, or if you're really creative, a cylinder_._ Pam drops the shinny blue and silver plastic key-chain when she sees two people come in. Hand in hand, the distance between them is so naught it's positivity sinful. The man brushes a strand away from the other's face, and Pam unconsciously brushes her own hair away from her cheek. She moves behind an aisle, telling herself it's because she suddenly has an undeniable need to bake a cake. In reality she wants to see them without anyone's notice.

Especially Theirs.

Peering over the top of Betty Crocker's Double Fudge, Pam sees The man pulls out one of those huge carts you'd expect a soccer mom use, not two late-twenty to early-thirty couple who live no more than two blocks from each other and go shopping every Tuesday night together because Veronica Mars is on then, and they can't possibly mock a show without snacks, can they?

One good thing about the new seating arrangement in the office, Pam can overhear a lot more conversations than she used to.

She moves over to the fresh produce, grabbing a grapefruit, because, damn it, she does like them, even if no one else does, and she figures that until her stomach stops dropping every moment she looks up from her desk, she's entitled.

The woman grabs a banana, and reenacts some movie scene. The man is doubled over in laughter, leaning against the apples. Pam can't help but remember the only time she was the only one to make Him laugh like that. And her insides squeeze like someone is pouring unsweetened grapefruit juice down her throat.

She moves over to the lettuce, pretending like this decision can make or break her sandwiches, while she really wonders why she keeps on coming: this store, this day, this time. Why she has to watch them like this, so carefree and happy. Why she tortures herself over and over.

_Because it's what Jim went through. _She suddenly realizes. It's been why she's been torturing herself these past weeks. Why she keeps coming. She feels indebted to Jim, and she's trying to repay him. But it's killing her. It's killing her and she can't stop.

_Is this how he always felt like?_ She can't help but wonder. But it couldn't have. He didn't act like it. Awkward was Jim and Roy but they weren't friends, didn't really know each other. It made sense they wouldn't be friendly. It made sense for Jim's eyes to narrow when she talked, was with Roy.

Sometimes she's so good at pretending, she doesn't even notice it anymore. She does, however, notice that she can't find The couple.

She moves over to the cereal isle, with the great advantage point for the magazine/book rack, where the woman always drags The Man over to, so they can mock the romance novel covers. Her time is off though, or the ritual has changed, because when she reaches the Cheerios, The woman is alone. And suddenly she knows He's behind her. With a sharp spin, her back is to the bright yellow box, and she's looking at Him. See's Him. And He's smiling at her.

"Hey there, Pam." She doesn't want to say anything, wants to turn around and run out the store. Quit jobs, move away, and then do something impulsive, like join the circus. Instead, she smiles.

"Hey."

"I've seen you here late-"

"My apartment's just five minutes away." If you add ten minutes to that amount. He's still smiling, and Pam feels like she should just confess. Tell Him she's been watching them, knows His favorite brand of cheese, that He grabs food from the back just like her, and He likes to push the cart by Himself. Instead she smiles again, it feels so uncertain.

"What're you buying?" She holds up her basket to Him, and gives Him a nod to root around in it. With a smile He moves the food around, picking up the grapefruit. "Really Beesly." She gives Him a real smile while He shakes His head disapprovingly at her.

"I like them."

"They're sour."

"Not if you put sugar on them. And," A fact pops in her head she's pretty sure is true, "half a grapefruit a day is known to increase brain function."

"And where'd you get that bit of information from?" He's tossing the fruit between both hands, and she has to work hard not to get distracted from it, not to let her eyes drop...

"The grapefruit people." It's so easy, this feeling He gives her. Like how you can say anything and not feel idiotic.

"You're too trusting Beesly, what if the Grapefruit People were lying?" The laughter bubbles out, unintentionally, because it feels so good to talk to him, like they used to, no awkward pauses, no unanswered questions, just easy answers and quick wits. She wonders (for the infinite time) why she didn't realize earlier that He was the only one who could make her laugh at grapefruit. He joins in, his laughter a chuckle, and she has to go and ruin it.

"Did it hurt?" He looks momentarily confused by that statement (she couldn't possibly mean) and so comes to an unlikely conclusion,

"Naw, a grapefruit couldn't hurt me."

"I meant watching Roy and I. Together." The grapefruit drops to the ground, but neither lean to pick it up. Neither even act as if they heard it drop.

"Pam." So much longing in that voice.

"Because it hurts me. When I watch you and Karen. I feel like I'm breaking when I see you together." The basket seems so heavy in her arms, she wants to put it down, run away, but she keeps in her arms instead. Intent on staying for this. And it's keeping her anchored.

"Then why do you come every Tuesday?" She never understood books when they said they could see emotions in peoples eyes. Eyes are just that. Eyes. But Jim's, His were expressive. She prided herself on finally being able to understand what all those romance novels were talking about when she looked in His eyes and saw (still can see) humor, happiness, and now, painful longing. It makes her look away.

"Because." And the tears are beginning to pool. She blinks them back, tries to, but they're too fat, too big, and some slide down her cheek. "Because I hurt you. Right? Unintentional. But there it was."

"Pam."

"And I'm sorry. More sorry than when I cut off all my hair in the tenth grade. More when I first started driving and backed up into a pole. More so than when I told you that swaying wasn't dancing. That's why I didn't call you after I canceled the wedding. Because how to you apologize for that? How do you apologize for falling in love with someone and not realizing it? And then I missed you so much when you were gone. No buffer for Dwight, Michael, no companion, no best friend that understood me so completely and I never realized it. I never realized it. Months past, and I couldn't seem to work up the nerve to call you. And then I thought I was being tacky, telling you in September that I ended my marriage in June. Trying to explain something that I'd run through my head so many times I was sure it'd sound rehearsed." Her voice is choking on the tears, the emotions, but she goes on, she needs to get this out. On the cereal aisle of WinCo she needs to confess it. "So then you were coming back, and I was so happy. I could explain it. Explain my behavior, ask your forgiveness, get you back. I wanted you back."

"Pam." His voice sounds a bit urgent, but she can't stop. She can't stop.

"But you didn't want me. You know that quote, absence makes the heart grow fonder? It seems like absence has the opposite affect on you." She feels a small insane chuckle gather at the back of her throat, but she pushes her down, trying to finish what she apparently must say, "We were broken, and I didn't know how to fix it. So I waited and I watched. I'm still waiting, still watching." She meets his eyes for this. She needs to. "And I'm going to continue to wait. To watch. Until you fall in love with me again. I don't care how long it takes. I'll get you back. I'm going to get you back." His voice is horse when he speaks, but there's no malice.

"And so watching my shopping habits is going to help you with that?"

"Remember when Kevin was waiting to see if he was going to be diagnosed with skin cancer so we went off to buy him gifts?"

"Yeah."

"I miss stuff like that. This reminds me of it." Pam is tired and unsure of what she's accomplished by this declaration and so sort of does a half-turn, looking for the grapefruit she realizes isn't in Jim's hands. He finds it first, and when Jim bends down to pick it up, she wonders if she can't dump her basket somewhere and make it to her car before she begins sobbing. Jim is suddenly right next to her. Grabbing her basket and dropping the grapefruit into it. Her arms feel like they're floating without the extra weight, and Pam wonder abstractly why He's placing it on the floor. She doesn't have much time to think about it however, because the distance between them shortens into nothing, and His hands frame her face. She doesn't mind.

"I miss stuff like that too." And then He kisses her, it's not like the last kiss they shared. Not as soft, but not rough either. She isn't being pushed into the cereal poxes, her shirt isn't being ripped open, but her hair is being combed though, her neck massaged, her tongue being used in a way that hasn't been in so long. And then she stops thinking altogether. Oxygen is one of those tricky things you forget about until you don't have it anymore. And it was probably the only reason those two parted.

"So this is what it's like to get seduced by Pam." He said thoughtfully, His thumb stroking her cheek. Her laughter bubbles, and she has to fight for breath.

"It wasn't my intention, I assure you."

"Well that's good to know." Karen said.

And Pam felt her happy, light, soaring heart, fall.

-------6------

WIP.

Hey, you know what you should do know? Make yourself a snack. And then review me and tell me about it. And if you feel like it, after you're done talking about the food, you should tell me what you think about this story. But ONLY after you talk about the food. Because THAT's what I want to hear about. :)


	2. Laughter

**Title**: His and Hers  
**Disclaimer**: I've read somewhere that after fifty years a patent becomes worthless, and I'm not totally sure if it applies to TV shows, but for the sake of the argument I'll say it is. And with that in mind, WATCH OUT in 2052! This show will be MINE. Until then, no I do not own it.  
**Spoilers**: Pretty much up to the third Season  
**Summary**: Jim's side of Pam's stalking. _  
_**Notes:** Bet you never expected this story to be updated, did you? A few mentionings, I am Jewish, and therefore Gd should have an 'o' in it. Also, Pam dyed her hair a lot during the shows course, and Jim (in love) would notice that, even if they were supposed to be subtle. The odd tense change and similarities to the first chapter is there on purpose and now begin.

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You know that moment when you're on the swings and you're pumping, going higher and higher and then, for the briefest of moments you're weightless? Flying above the entire park, you can see everything and feel so giddy when- crash, you're back in your seat, and falling back to the ground, trying to gain speed so that the next time you go up, it's for longer. Well that's exactly how Jim feels every time he sees Her at the grocery store. Staring. At him. Them. Almost searching for something. Looking more lost, more broken, after each outing.

He isn't exactly sure how many times She came to the grocery store without his notice, how many conversations were overhead, caresses shown, intimate moments broadcast- does it make him a bad person to wish She saw every second of it?

Maybe he's punishing Her.

Maybe he's acting the way he is after the transfer because he wants her to feel a tenth of the loneliness he felt for those three years.

She loved him. At least as a friend and he knows how close they were. Of that he was sure. To lose someone that close would hurt, no matter the romantic entanglements. So maybe that's why he still refuses to offer the olive branch. Because he can't stand for her not to hurt- to feel the pain that he felt in Roy's presence- the excruciating ache that entered every crevice of you and wore down and down until you were so unsure of what you meant to the other that you went out with a girl you didn't even like because hey- that was moving on. And who falls in love with their best friend? Who could be so stupid as to fall in love with their best friend? But then she'd smile, share a prank over Dwight, and what was the purse bag saleswoman's name?

But that can't be true because Gd help him, he still loves Her, and can't even imagine let alone wish in his darkest hour to make her feel that sort of pain.

He stays away to protect his heart.

He's pretty sure.

Today is no different than any other. He didn't speak to Her at work, flirted with Karen at his desk, ignored that feeling to pull a prank on Dwight, who was getting so desperately cocky he actually had the audacity to insinuate that Jim was in hiding (of what, he wasn't sure), and made a total of four sales calls. On one of them he had to hang up on the person because he felt Her eyes on the back of his neck. And it became so desperately impossible to work when he felt Her stare.

After work, Karen got in his car (it's his turn to do the car pooling), and as they drove through the neighborhoods, discussing Hollywood's IT girls, no matter how many times Jim jokingly asked Karen if she was turning into Kelly. Conversation fizzled out after Jim asked her what they decided it was called when they had a pebble stuck in your shoe.

Too late he realizes that their discovery was actually His and Hers.

Still, when Jim picks up Karen to go to the grocery store, things were better.

He let Karen have sole control of the radio.

Stepping into the arctic building that was WinCo, Jim played up their intimacy. He told himself that this wasn't because of Pam's lurking, but because he felt bad about his treatment to Karen earlier.

Sometimes he's so good at pretending, he doesn't even notice it anymore. He does notice Pam in the cake aisle, however. Grabbing a ridiculously large cart, so Karen will comment that he better not even think she's going to push that, because it is way too big and heavy (which is actually kind of ok, because ever since he was twelve and his mother told him he was finally big enough to push the cart- he's liked it) Jim heads for the fresh produce. They have a routine here, and he likes to stick to it.

Karen seems to notice he's off, because all of a sudden she's holding a banana like a gun, and tells him in a dead on impression to put up his hands or she'll do it for him. And for just a moment he forgets about the curly (brown, blonde, red)headed woman and focuses on this one. Her humor carries him away and he's leaning on the apples, not paying any attention to their surroundings until an apple falls to the ground. When he picks it up and puts it back, he realizes something. If that were Her, he wouldn't have noticed the apple. The thought sobers him up more then the strongest coffee in the world, and he grabs the cart, muttering something about bread. Karen doesn't even mention his rapid change of attitude, just that she'll be at the books, and that he should come over when he's done. A nod is her reply.

White bread is his favorite. Always has been, but he's been buying pumpernickel the last few months, because it's Karen's favorite. Her reason, "Barney used to eat it. And what female doesn't want to look like Barney?"

He's pretty sure she was joking.

Still, his hand reaches out for pumpernickel and when he's about to put it into the cart, he realizes that the white bread is already there.

Symbolism is a powerful thing, but Jim never really understood (which could explain his 'C' in English for the third quarter). Still, Jim isn't dumb (much) and thinks he understands this, because he looks up at this precise moment, and sees Her. Standing in front of the Cheerios, hands clutching a basket so tight Her knuckles are turning white, She's peering over the boxes, looking at the book with such scrutiny he thinks that Waldo is going to appear from behind a shelf.

He doesn't notice that he's walking until suddenly they're a mere three feet apart, and he's clearing his throat. She seems to not notice him, until suddenly She spins, hair flying and still work attire skirt in the air, he can't help but smile. Deciding (once again) he is not going to second guess his words (a first) around Her, a natural peasantry is brought forth.

"Hey there, Pam." She looks at him as if he's an apparition, which he's pretty sure he's not.

"Hey." She sounds unsure of how he's going to react. Like he could just pretend they weren't best friends for three years. Again.

"I've seen you here around late-" She cuts him off before even the thought can be completed,

"My apartment's just five minutes away." The way She says that, too quickly and with too much emphasis on the part that the absolute truth of that statement makes his smile remain, because they're not too different with all this changing, and he feels like maybe they can still fit.

Determined that there won't be any awkward silences, he says the first thing that comes to mind,

"What're you buying?" And She does the cutest thing, She holds up the basket, and with a nod, invites him to look. He doesn't waste a second. Rooting through the normal items (toilet paper, lettuce, wheat bread, cake mix?) He spots something odd. Picking it up, he meets Her eyes, Her beautiful expressive eyes that are so so full of hope, "Really Beesly." A shake of his head makes Her smile. A real smile, Her white teeth gleaming, and Her head tilted just a little bit to the left. He joking told Her once that when She was happy She got a whole new perspective of the world. Pam immediately fired back that that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to Her.

He thought She was kidding him. She wasn't.

"I like them."

"They're sour." Trying to justify Her opinion, She continues,

"Not if you put sugar on them, and.. half a grapefruit a day is known to increase brain function." The way She's looking at him, it's doing strange things to his heart, and making it hard to think properly.

"And where'd you get that bit of information from?" Nervously tossing the fruit between limbs, it's making Jim calmer, and right now he feels as if this is important. He needs to be calm.

"The grapefruit people." Her confidence is returning, he notices, and is glad. Because a scared Pam is frightening to him.

"You're too trusting Beesly, what if the Grapefruit People were lying?" Her laughter bubbles out, and it sounds so good, so normal, so _right, _that he joins in with a chuckle of his own. And for that perfect moment, he thinks he's going to be able to survive this, unscathed. That he can become friends with Her again. And then Her posture change, as if She's gearing up for something, but he doesn't notice. Not really.

"Did it hurt?" She's looking at the grapefruit as She says this, so without real thought, he gives Her a raised eyebrow, and answers truthfully,

"Naw, a grapefruit couldn't hurt me."

"I meant watching Roy and I. Together." The grapefruit drops to the ground, but neither lean to pick it up. Neither even act as if they heard it drop.

"Pam." He can taste the longing in his voice. He hopes to Gd She can't hear it.

"Because it hurts me. When I watch you and Karen. I feel like I'm breaking when I see you together." He knows this is monumental, they never talk about anything important, at least no without very bad results, but all he can think about is, _here?_

"Then why do you come every Tuesday?" And why is this question so so important to him?

"Because." And he can see the tears are beginning to pool. He feels like it's his fault. Like every tear belongs to him. Pam blinks them back, tries to, but they're too fat, too big, and some slide down Her cheek. "Because I hurt you. Right? Unintentional. But there it was." If She isn't careful about how She says the next few words, he's going to start crying with Her. Already his throat is closing up, and he only just manages a,

"Pam."

"And I'm sorry. More sorry than when I cut off all my hair in the tenth grade. More when I first started driving and backed up into a pole. More so than when I told you that swaying wasn't dancing. That's why I didn't call you after I canceled the wedding. Because how do you apologize for that? How do you apologize for falling in love with someone and not realizing it? And then I missed you so much when you were gone. No buffer for Dwight, Michael, no companion, no best friend that understood me so completely and I never realized it. I never realized it. Months past, and I couldn't seem to work up the nerve to call you. And then I thought I was being tacky, telling you in September that I ended my marriage in June. Trying to explain something that I'd run through my head so many times I was sure it'd sound rehearsed." He forgets about trying to cry as every atom of his body correlates to memorize and imprint this moment into his memory. If there's one thing he needs to remember for the rest of his life, it's this. "So then you were coming back, and I was so happy. I could explain it. Explain my behavior, ask your forgiveness, get you back. I wanted you back."

"Pam." He tries to beg Her with a single word to not continue. He can't hear from Her own words what a complete ass he was to Her. As angry as he was with Her, he realizes with amazing clarity that he doesn't want to cause Her any pain. He doesn't want Her in any pain. Not even a paper cut.

"But you didn't want me. You know that quote, absence makes the heart grow fonder? It seems like absence has the opposite affect on you. We were broken, and I didn't know how to fix it. So I waited and I watched. I'm still waiting, still watching." He isn't totally sure when they broke eye contact, truthfully everything looks a bit fuzzy, but Her eyes are on his again, and he can't look away. Won't.

"And I'm going to continue to wait. To watch. Until you fall in love with me again. I don't care how long it takes. I'll get you back. I'm going to get you back." It takes amazing willpower right there to not just go at Her. Push Her into the cereals and kiss Her for so long and with such passion that they can't think clearly. Instead he makes a lame attempt at a joke.

"And so watching my shopping habits is going to help you with that?"

"Remember when Kevin was waiting to see if he was going to be diagnosed with skin cancer so we went off to buy him gifts?" _How could I not?_

"Yeah."

"I miss stuff like that. This reminds me of it." All of a sudden, it seems Pam can't look him in the eye, and She does a half turn. What is She looking for? And it comes snapping back, they're in WinCo, and Jim dropped Her grapefruit. He grabs it without thinking, his long fingers grasping the fruit with a level of deftness previously unknown to him. Suddenly, this grapefruit is very important to him. He plucks Her basket from Her hands, and lays the fruit between the cake mix and toilet paper. He lays the basket on the ground, and finally, after so long, he stops thinking. He isn't paying attention to the future, how this action could have an equal and/or opposite reaction, the thousands of permeations to this one event, instead, he takes Her face in his hands, and Gd. does it feel good.

"I miss stuff like that too." And then he's kissing Her. He isn't paying attention to where his hands should go, or the laundry he needs to pick up at Arnie's, like he sometimes does when kissing Karen, instead he just focuses on Her. On the woman right in front of him, who makes the most delectable noise when he hits a particularly sensitive nerve ending. He notices that She needs air before his own desire for the substance, and releases Her mouth with a short kiss. Their breath seems to come out in synchronized gasps, and he smooths down Her hair as he speaks,

"So this is what it's like to get seduced by Pam." His thumb strokes Her cheek, and Her laughter bubbles, a most interesting reaction he needs to test out later.

"It wasn't my intention, I assure you."

"Well that's good to know." Karen says, and Jim realizes he's taking too long to look over at her, his girlfriend, but he does it anyway.

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	3. The Other Woman

**Title:** His and Hers  
**Disclaimer:** The Office does not belong to a seventeen year old Jewish girl. Life is not that cool.  
**Summary:** Pam's a stalker. But only for Jim.  
**Pairing:** established Jim/Karen, Jim/Pam  
**Spoilers:** Somewhere in-between the beginning to middle of the 3rd season.  
**Notes:** Finito! I just want to thank all who have reviewed, read and looked at it in disgust. Because you still looked.

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Karen never thought she would be the other woman. She believed herself too wise for that. But when Karen was nineteen years old, she met a man and feel in love. Working the local 76, it was a hot summer day, and Karen was on her third free slurpee when He came in. The room suddenly felt so much warmer. And especially ten minutes later when she was making out with him in the storage closet. His name was Kevin, he was older than her, he had big blue eyes, money to spend, and a hot blue two-seat BMW. Nothing about their courtship was like anything she'd done before, and there was such a freedom in that, such a complete and utter deviation, it made Karen feel more alive and grown up she'd ever felt before.

Two months in she found out he had a wife.

It was the first time she quit a job without notice or wait for a replacement. After that she promised herself it would never happen again. But standing in the cereal aisle of Walmart, even though Karen knew she'd done no wrong, she felt that gut-wrenching feeling that was mirrored only when she met Kevin's wife and two beautiful children.

And in that moment she hated them for making her feel something she promised herself she'd never feel again. Barely conscious of opening her mouth, she was amazed when she heard her voice,

"Well that's good to know." Pam turned to her first, face screwed up into what looked like shame. Jim's face met hers with a kind of sadness that Karen refused to dissect.

"Karen, I–"

"You what? Didn't plan on this? Wasn't thinking? Didn't mean to hurt me? Are sorry?" she realizes how unfair she's being, that he most likely really _didn't_ plan on making out with Pam, that he probably _wasn'_t thinking at present, wasn't _trying_ to hurt her, and he _was sorry _for how this came to be, but Karen is so passed being fair. She really thought Jim was- if not The One- a very close Second Best. Hell, she moved to _Scranton _for him. And then she slowly but surely learned about Pam and the Not Relationship they had.

And something happened.

Instead of breaking up with the man whose heart so belonged to another, as she should have, at any other time of her life would have, Karen dug her heels in. She became convinced, obsessed with the thought that he would chose her. Maybe it was because of Kevin, a deep seeded insecurity, or just the fact that she knew what a catch Jim was, but Karen became enraptured, irrefutable, and so so sure that in a few months Jim would be hers. That Pam would just be some old fleeting crush that their kids would tease him about.

Sometimes, she's so good at pretending, she doesn't even notice anymore. Karen does, however, notice that they've taken a step back, not looking at each other. It makes them look so much more guilty, and Karen can't stand that. Because she's not so far gone that she doesn't see she's a part of this happening.

Karen took a perverse pleasure every time she flirted with Jim in front of Her. Seeing Jim pay attention to herself, instead of Pam, when Pam was watching, she hesitated to admit how much she enjoyed it. Especially when Karen had generally liked Pam, had delighted in their friendship, before she had found out of Jim's feelings.

That doesn't stop her from doing it, though.

Pam's voice cuts through her thoughts, but she can't make herself listen, because for some reason, to pay attention would mean to understand, to sympathize, to forgive, and Karen doesn't feel that religious at the moment. Crying seems like one those ruthlessly archaic things that girls other than her do, but she can't seem to stop herself right now. They're beginning to pool. She blinks them back, tries to, but they're too fat, too big, and some slide down her cheek.

Through her blurred vision, Karen saw Pam pick up her basket and that oh-so-welcome-feeling of _justified anger_ returned.

"Oh, are you leaving? You, you make-out with _my_ boyfriend and then decide you've made enough of a mess for tonight?" Oh yes, this is so much more agreeable to sadness.

"Karen." Jim's voice sounds almost noble, like a fucking knight in shining armor. It makes her feel sick instead of admonished.

"No, it's ok." Pam's voice, the way she sounds, like a weary soldier preparing for battle, keeps Karen from throwing up. It makes her feel more malicious though.

"Oh I'm glad you've decided that It's ok for me to feel upset. I was worried before that It might have been too much, but now that I have your permission I feel much better now."

"Karen!"

"Am I mistaken, or didn't you turn Jim down when he told you he loved you?" She isn't looking over at Jim right now, she can't stand to see how he's reacting to her words, instead her eyes are glued to Pam's. Karen isn't quite sure when she decided Pam was the person at fault, but now that it's agreed upon, she feels remarkably calm about inflicting as much pain as possible.

"I did." Pam's being honest, she can tell, and it's all the more annoying.

"So, what? You decided he was good enough for you when he found someone else? When your engagement fell apart?" Karen suddenly remembers when she was in Elementary school and was cornered by the meanest kid in school out on the playground. Mental spars meant to reduce the other to tears, and Karen is unnerved that Pam isn't crying. She doesn't even have a shine to her eyes.

"That's not how it was."

"That's. Not. How. It. Was?" Karen makes the words sound as if a dim-witted four year old said them, because she has a feeling that Pam's going to say something Karen's not going to like.

"It took me a long time to realize how I fel-" but Karen really isn't in the mood to hear the reasons, excuses, don't want to understand, and in a twisted way gets even more angry at Pam. Why would Pam try to get rid of this delicious feeling of justified anger and give her sadness instead?

"I don't give a damn about how long it took you to realize that you were in love with Jim. I just," A deep breath, her voice can't shake, not now, "I just want to know why it had to happen now. When Jim and I were supposed to be getting ready for a date." Which feels so so long ago.

"You're right."

"What?" Karen finds herself more angry at those two words than any declaration of love.

"I shouldn't have come here. I wanted something to happen with Jim and me. I'm not saying I came here for this purpose, but I missed Jim and felt guilty. I wanted to see him happy, even if it was with you, and I see now, I see I hurt you. And I didn't want that to happen. I'm sorry. I'll go. You two should talk." She's so earnest, so real, that it makes Karen go into a mad rage.

"How dare you tell me what Jim and I need to do-" but Jim comes into the conversation, and when he speaks, it has an air of finality to it and she knows she's not going to break.

"Karen, let's just go."

"We have groceries."

"I don't care."

"Well I do."

"Fine. I'll grab the cart." When he returns, after Pam steadily refuses to match Karen's gaze, he locks eyes with Pam and a silent message goes to her that even she can decipher, '_I'll talk to you later.' _

"I'll be in the car." Karen turns on her heels and marches out the store, telling herself the reason her eyes are smarting so much in because of the cold.

When Jim comes out of the store twelve minutes later (not that she counted) and mutters something about the long lines, Karen doesn't say anything, she just waits until he unlocks the car and then gets into it before he can open the door for her. She doesn't think she could stand that. Especially since she knows one of the best relationships she had so far is ending.

On the drive back to her house, because she knows that they're not going to discuss this tonight (by her request), Karen wonders if she can call in her resignation, or has to go into work tomorrow. She doesn't think she'll be able to stand the thought of seeing them, together, the way she begrudgingly knows but has yet to realize it should be.

Because The Office? That's His and Hers.

END.

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